A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:Its loveliness increases; it will neverPass into nothingness; but still will keepA bower quiet for us, and a sleepFull of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathingA flowery band to bind us to the earth,Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearthOfContinue reading “A thing of Beauty is a joy for ever – by john Keats”
Whimpers in the maze of tough thoughts,A life with lenity.A thought of seeking coincidence,With wondrous epiphany. A morning that seeks night,But couldn’t.A night that seeks dawn,But couldn’t. It stays within,And asks quietly,Whether you’re,what you areor not?? When not heard,It stays where it belongs,Like a snail in its shell.